


Corner Pocket

by i am only revolutions (onashtreelane)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bikers, Leather, M/M, Pool, Prostitution, Quickie, Rentboys, Top Dean, rentboy, rentboy!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onashtreelane/pseuds/i%20am%20only%20revolutions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean needs to make some cash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner Pocket

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my betas for their hard work. You can visit their tumblrs at: http://littlenerdyguywithwings.tumblr.com/ [writing/edits] & http://anime-heart.tumblr.com/ [code monkey].

"Sammy!" I shouted through the door into my brother's adjoining hotel room. "I'm going out."

It's rare that we get separate rooms. Usually means I get lucky. Right now, though--it's time for a hustle. I've got to pay for dinner somehow.

I closed the door, grabbed the faded green hankie[1] from my duffle bag, and stuffed it into my left back pocket. My keys went in the other. I checked myself out in the hazy mirror before I left, adjusting my leather coat and collar. Needed to get the look right for this bar.

I parked the Impala just down the block.

Man, I love the rumble of Baby's engine, and I knew from the amount of motorcycles lined in the front told me that most of the people there would too. I also knew they'd be twice my size. That didn't faze me, though. I got it all under control. I always do.

Bells jingled, and twenty pairs of eyes turned my way. Most wore long beards, kempt and unkempt, but everyone was in leather. Not a woman in the joint.

_Ah, I see._

I pushed between two leather-clad giants and ordered a beer. I looked up and up at the bartender.

I smirked. "You must be Tiny."

He plunked the pint down in front of me, foam spilling over the mouth of the bottle. I took several long swallows of the cold brew, letting the head slip down my throat. It'd been a long day and a long drive and nothing went down better than an ice cold beer.

"Thanks man." I slid a fifty across the scarred counter. "My tab." I smiled and drank again.

"Don't mention it," he grumbled, going back to drying bar glasses.

By now everyone had turned back to their drinks and where oblivious of my presence. _This is good,_ I thought.

"Even better," I mumbled, noticing the well worn pool table was empty. It stood in a quiet corner, sort of off by itself, with a dart board that was just as worn, and a couple of really old pin ball machines. _Hey, at least I didn't have to pay to play,_ I thought as I racked the balls and chose a cue.

Some dude plunked quarters into the jukebox, and AC/DC rang out loud and clear.

_She was a fast machine she kept her motor clean,  
She was the best damn woman that I ever seen..._

I shucked my jacket, chalked the tip of the stick, and walked slowly around the table. I lined up the cue ball, took careful aim, and launched. Balls flew everywhere, cracking off each other and the bumpers. I sunk three right away, and bit my lip. I hadn't meant to do that many. Truthfully, sometimes it's hard to suck at a game that you love.

I leaned carefully over the table and took the next shot. I scratched soundly, and cursed just loud enough for somebody walking by to hear. _I've got to make this look good if I'm gonna make any money tonight,_ I thought, as I bent over to line up the next shot.

Out of habit, I adjusted the money-colored hankie stuffed in my back pocket, but I didn't think anything would come of it. Hardly ever did. I played--four more games, four long crappy games that no one joined me for. I sighed, and tossed the crappy pool cue on the table.

_Well, there goes tomorrow's dinner._

I bent to grab my jacket and felt something slipping out of my back pocket.

_Crap! Now some bitch is taking my wallet._

I whirled around, ready to do battle with whatever fuck-face had attempted to take it. I looked up and up. It was Tiny. He gripped my hankie in his huge fist, one eyebrow cocked.

"You... free?" he asked, voice low and private. His shadowed eyes looked straight at me, never missing a beat.

I looked him all the way up and down, real slow. "For you big guy, I could be free all night." I left the offer out there, hanging.

His voice turned to silk. "I got a half hour." He handed back the fifty I gave him earlier, plus a second.

"It's all good," I grinned at him as he led me out the back door. The motel was kitty-corner to the bar, and along a well worn path. I snorted back a laugh and lead him to my door.

"Here we are. It's not the penthouse suite, but it'll do." I opened the door and he stepped in. I knew he'd been here before, there was no doubt about it, but he stood staring like the balding carpet and 70's bedspread was all new.

I smiled, seeing how red his cheeks where. "Nervous? Tiny, you have to be the tallest dude I have ever seen."

I slipped out of my jacket, and began taking off my shirts, pulling them over my head. Sometimes these guys need a little bit of tender lovin'. Tiny still had my hankie, so I gently I touched his hand and took hold of it. Slowly and just as softly I began to undo his leather vest.

"No," he grabbed my wrist. "That's not... I mean I..." He stammered, letting go of me, blushing even harder. He large hand wandered down my bare chest to my belt. He unbuttoned my fly swiftly and dropped my pants to the floor. I hadn't bothered with tighty-whities, so I stood there naked, except for my boots.

Tiny licked his lips appreciatively, his hand giving my cock a squeeze with several quick strokes. I grunted, his touch rough and needy.

He let go, watching me as I licked my lips. Hurriedly, fumbled with his belt, fingers all tangled up in the leather.

"Tiny, dude, it's all good," I reached to help, but was too late. His pants dropped to the floor with the thud of pockets filled with loose change and keys.

He finally spoke. "Man, please."

"Dude, I'll do whatever you want. You just gotta tell me. I'm not a mind reader." My hand slipped to my semi-hard cock. I stroked myself absently, completely aware that Tiny's eyes were glued to my fingers.

He squeaked, when I stroked myself root to tip and back again.

"Fuck me. Dammit, I want you to fuck me so hard," he nearly groaned. "Damn, I watched you all night and your tight little ass... I gotta to feel you inside me."

He bent over on the bed, still clothed, but bare-assed. Tiny turned to look at me, red-face but still watching me. "Just plow me."

I sucked in air between my teeth. "That was not what I was expecting, but hell yes."

Now was my turn to fumble--for a condom and lube. His eyes never left me as I rolled the rubber on and pumped a glob of liquid into my hand. I stroked again, top to bottom, and stepped up behind him. The big boys don't want me to fuck them usually. Most of the time they want me to yelp and cry their names, or tell them how big they are or how much it hurts.

"Hard and fast?" I drawled, pushing my cock between his butt cheeks, teasing.

Tiny grunted, pushing back and engulfing me. My groans joined his as he slid all the way down in one fluid stroke. "Holy fuck," I gasped.

"Now, please," he begged for a second time. "Fuck me like the bitch I am."

My hands gripped his hips tight, and the feeling of him surrounding me made me roll my eyes closed. A few softer strokes to get the angle right, then harder and deeper thrusts, and he groaned low in his chest.

"Oh yeah, just like that--" He panted as our bodies slapped against each other, thrusting back on me, fully fucking me just as hard as I took him.

Tiny's voice cracked as he came, bucking against me. This was hotter than I expected it to be and I lost it when he told me how my dick stretched his hole.

"Oh fuck!" I pounded fast, exploding deep in him, just like he was asking for.

I leaned on Tiny, breathing hard against his back, him breathing hard beneath me. I felt myself slip out and opened my eyes just in time to see Sam's face in the crack of the door between our rooms. His eyes were wide, but he shut the door quietly.

_Ah shit. Now he's going to want to talk about feelings._

We stood up, Tiny and me, composing ourselves. I cleaned up, and bumped my shoulder against his. "Hey, thanks man. That made my night."

When I grinned, he smiled back, doing up his pants.

Tiny handed me the cash and squeezed my hand. "Come see me when you're in town again. You drink free in my bar."

He made his way down the well-worn track to the bar and shut the door behind him. Sam and his feelings could wait until the morning.

* * *

1\. [The hanky code is a code used by some to indicate certain sexual needs. Here, Dean's hanky means he's for rent. For more information visit: <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Handkerchief_code>]


End file.
